


Of One Mind

by emeny



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: But mostly angst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeny/pseuds/emeny
Summary: [Spoilers E77] 'But...' Kima drops her hands and frowns while Allura stares back in confusion. So lost in the situation. A complete lack of clarity so uncharacteristic of the Arcanist. Kima shakes her head, not willing to accept some magical effect could so easily take so much away. Her Allura.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Episode 77
> 
> I posted this to my tumblr in an excited daze yesterday so I edited it a bit and I'm posting here too. I'm still awestruck and over the moon about my favourite ladies and this is still a little rough. And angsty, because I'm fun like that. But there you go. Thanks for stopping by

A low horn echoes outside of the fort. Kima’s brow furrows. Her head swings around the busy hall, surveying the soldiers and their sudden rush to attention. Hurriedly leaving their tables and dropping their conversations, readying their blades and plate instead. Not a good sign. Bahamut give her strength. Her armoured fist tightens around the hilt of her sword, drawing it to her side ready to smite whatever foes are coming for them. Of course she’s ready for them.

The pre-battle stream of adrenaline courses through her. The excitement of battle is something she can’t shake, but the dread nestles its way in there too in an uncomfortable blend. She strides with purpose, her boots resounding on the stonework as she looks for General Ellie in the rising chaos. Fighters charge around her, yelling commands in frantic succession. They hadn’t planned for this. Their forces divided, their stronghold targeted, their de facto leaders on a completely different plane of existence. Kima snorts to herself derisively. _Of course this is what happens. Of course_.

There’s a distant sound of explosions and the mechanical clatters of fired trebuchets, her soles feel the vibrations and their proximity. Fragments of stone and dust drop down from the ceiling with the tremors. Kima breaks into a run. The stakes raising themselves too abruptly for her liking. But that's all right. She has a blade to test out; muscles to stretch. More than anyone she's up for a challenge.

‘Lady Kima!’ a voice shouts out to her. One of Ellie’s men. Kima skids to a stop in front of him.

‘What? What’s going on? Where’s the General?’ They need a plan of action and fast. Daxio can’t take a siege. They can’t take losses like this. Not with what’s at stake.

‘I- I don’t know but Lady Allura-‘

‘Allura what?’ She snaps at him. She didn't mean to. But his tone was harried, worry knitted between his features. A bad feeling overtakes her, a cold feeling snaking down her spine. What is this? Why? A sudden sense of urgency hits her hard enough to cause whiplash. The soldier stutters and motions with a thumb back down a corridor and Kima shoulders her way past him, almost knocking him off his feet. She treads to one of the meeting chambers. Two concerned soldiers visible, stood around the table. A frightened wailing coming from somewhere inside, where Kima couldn't quite see. ‘What in Bahamut’s name is going on?’ She yells to them, rounding her way past them, over the threshold. Her heart sinks.

She expected danger, or blood, or... just something else. On the back side of the room Allura presses herself against the wall, across the table from them all. Trying to get away from the soldiers who were trying to gauge the situation. There’s a hysterical look upon her face, but her eyes are glassy, tears dripping from them down her cheeks. Shaking her head vigorously she sinks to the floor as if she’s terrified, her breathing heavy. A knot the size of a fist forms in Kima’s stomach.

‘Allura?’ she says. Her blue eyes dart over to Kima’s and there’s a spark of recognition. Of relief. She slowly rises to her feet; her palms press against the table top for support. Her pupils manically dart to the others in the room, her entire arms shake. Kima gives a look over her shoulder. ‘Go,’ she says. And they do.

Kima steps closer, apprehensively, slowly. She speaks so softly.

‘Allie? What’s-‘ Allura bounds over to her, pulling the Halfling close to her in a tight embrace and lets out a sob. ‘Hey, hey, hey. What happened?’ Kima strokes circles into her back before pulling away. Looking at her seriously at arms-length. Giving her a once-over. Deep concentration clouds over Allura’s face, she grunts and stutters trying to form words but falls short. A reply beyond her grasp. ‘Allie, what…’ Kima drains of colour, now her heart almost sinks into her boots.

Her hands dart up to Allura’s face. She protests, and tries to shy away from the abrupt movement from Kima. ‘Why…’ She checks for Allura’s tongue, but it remains intact. Words bleed together into a mumble, Allura's eloquence and poise gone for reasons beyond them both. 'But...' Kima drops her hands and frowns while Allura stares back in confusion. So lost in the situation. A complete lack of clarity so uncharacteristic of the Arcanist. Kima shakes her head, not willing to accept some magical effect could so easily take so much away. Her Allura.

Fists shake with a white hot rage. The metal of her gauntlets rattles together, her breath coming out in huffs. ‘It was Xanthus, wasn’t it?’ Allura scrunches up her face, trying to comprehend the situation. Trying. Kima gives a wry laugh. ‘For fucks sake.’ Her fists find the table, marking the wood. The action making Allura recoil for a second.

_Fuck._

_That son of a bitch._

_Who else?_

_Who else could’ve done it?_

Kima knew they couldn’t trust anyone. Not in the world as it is. Nobody but themselves. Nobody but each other.

_That foolish woman, with that heart of gold._

_Look at what he did._

_Look._

A slender hand strokes Kima’s cheek. Wiping away a tear that she didn’t want to fall. Another hand loops around a shaking gauntlet, stilling it. She stares up at the other woman. A sadness and frustration reflected into both their expressions. Another explosion rings through the fort. The battle becoming more harrowing, somehow. Clutching her head Allura shies away into a corner. The fighting outside the walls feeling far away, and the urgency almost forgotten. Kima softens.

‘Allie, hey, it’s okay.’ She grasps Allura’s hands delicately, her thumb ghosting over her knuckles in a soothing motion. ‘It’s safe here, so you stay right here all right?’ She brushes a loose strand of blonde hair behind an ear. ‘I’ll be right back, okay? I promise. I swear on the Platinum Dragon himself, I’ll come back to you.’

They hold each other’s gaze, and there is an accepting trust. An understanding beyond the words. It’s in the way their hands caress one another, and the way their eyes reach to the soul of each other. Bare and vulnerable. It was always so easy to be on that same level. They break apart in the brief silence deep within the fort, a lingering touch brushes across Allura’s cheek. Just one more moment. Kima vanishes out the door. Sending a final fleeting look back at her, curling up into her chair. Waiting for her. Small, and vulnerable, and lost.

This is something beyond Kima, her heart breaks at the thought. She mentally kicks herself at her inability to _fix_ this, to have any semblance of understanding. What help could she offer? She has her brawn, but that's not enough. Not for this. She has her promise, and she has her blade. A solution she knows how to wield, and in that moment it's all she has. Kima steels over again, sword at her side, on the prowl. Ready for a fight. Ready for her prey. She storms across the fort, past soldiers, and the great iron door. _Bang... Bang... Bang.._. It quakes. She marches up to the stairs of a tower, a prayer under her breath. Conviction in her eyes. She ascends.


End file.
